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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497690">In her mind (the whispers)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itylien/pseuds/Itylien'>Itylien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Spelling &amp; Grammar, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Purple Prose, Self-Indulgent, Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:27:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itylien/pseuds/Itylien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She already carried a mark of one elven artifact — what’s another one?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In her mind (the whispers)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is a reaction to how pissed off the Well of Sorrows debacle got me. A case could be made it is a very untimely over-reaction ;D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Her reasoning for sinking herself into the well of elven sorrows — despite having a willing human and an unwilling elf to literally order to take the burden for her — was simple. She already carried a mark of one elven artifact — what’s another one?</p>
<p>There weren't thousands of them. Few dozen at best. Maybe sixty voices she could discern by the tone, by the feeling of them when they were coming to the surface. Overwhelming — yes. But they were not chaos.</p>
<p>At first, they stood still, silent in her mind. As if aghast by the alienness of her nature. As if unsure what to do with the mind of one who had no faith, no fear, no roots to be cut from. </p>
<p>The elves, whose minds were now bathing in her own, gave up their voices on faith only, to one they trusted in completely. To better themselves, better each other, the whole of elvhen kind.</p>
<p>In her they found no trust. No conviction. Found no way to overtake her and — confused by this failure — began to search, to pool together, to pull and tug at threads of knowledge she already had. Taking it from her but giving back a plait of what they believed to be closer to the truth regardless of their intentions.</p>
<p>There seemed to be — she felt, but would not be able to explain how — a certain joy for them to find in her most mundane memories. In her incomplete knowledge of her kind. In the past she was cut away from as effectively as they were.</p>
<p>It took time for them to settle, but once they did they turned out to be no different from all the other uneasy allies she was forced by circumstances to associate with. In other words — they became her friends.</p>
<p>And only as friends, when she already trusted their knowledge, once her mind accepted them as part of itself, did they focus all the surviving, collected knowledge of elvenkind on the mark in her hand. On the anchor.</p>
<p>Their conclusion — when it came — was offered in one voice, almost as a scream that could not be denied. Almost as something she knew all along.</p>
<p>Still, she felt she ought to have been more surprised.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Skyhold held the night softly, lit in warm torchlight and hopes of the people it now served. The voices in the back of her mind whispered of magic bound into the stone, of the purpose it served. Of the faith that met it.</p>
<p>“Solas.”</p>
<p>To his credit the elf made no attempt to keep the pretense. He stood up and faced her like an equal she now knew he did not consider her as. The murals on the walls were almost finished — the most recent one at his back.</p>
<p>“Why are you still here?” She could have meant the chamber — Solas has just recently moved to one of the guest rooms overlooking the gardens — but they both knew she didn’t. Even though her voice was too soft to carry, the birds in the rafters would hear every word.</p>
<p>“Am I no longer welcome, Inquisitor?” He was looking up at her in a manner revoking nothing as much as the title she now knew he despised. A cornered beast. Silver gleaming in his eyes instead of golden candlelight.</p>
<p>“You could not have expected them to keep your silence.” It took weeks, yes. But in the end, the voices respected knowledge more than faith. And she deserved to know.</p>
<p>“I could expect the <em>limits</em> of your physiology to <em>keep</em> them silent. Or drive you mad.” There was a humorless wince on his face that fell far too short for a smile. She could not feel him gathering power about himself, but the whispers warned her he was.</p>
<p>She took a step towards him regardless. Relaxed. Easy. As she should be with a friend. Then another one to pass him, looking up to the newest and possibly the last depiction of the Well of Sorrows.</p>
<p>“You have to know what they’re saying, Solas. Is it true?” This time she refrained from putting proper inflection on his name, withholding the meaning she now knew it held. She could feel the scream of whispers in her voice when she spoke before, and maybe he could too if it was enough to turn him back into the beast she knew he wished he wasn’t.</p>
<p>She could feel him flinch away from the lie she laid before him without having to look.</p>
<p>“Why did you come here?” What he meant was why she came to confront him alone, in the dead of night. His voice shook in a way most unlike him, or maybe just unlike the persona of himself he wanted to project. </p>
<p>The whispers kept echoing the question at her, many shades of irritation coloring it through, wholly unconvinced with her rationale. They had little reason to trust in Fen'harel’s friendship.</p>
<p>“I wanted to know if you would lie directly to my face.” She glanced down to him, their eyes meeting for a moment. Her gaze serene, his silver. “I respect you, Solas. I trust you. They have nothing but venom for you. Why is that?” She smiled at him before looking up to the mural again.</p>
<p><em>It’s the anchor he wants. Not you. Not you! </em>Yell the whispers in her mind.</p>
<p>They were right. Obviously Solas did not want her. She was accidental. A complication.</p>
<p>But he held certain affection for her. Liked her.</p>
<p>Whatever he was, whatever he wished he wasn’t — he was not a monster. Up to this very moment, all of his lies laid in silence. Now that she took the silence away, would only lies remain?</p>
<p>A wave of exasperation crashed over her. A single feeling from dozens of minds. This is why they could not control her, this right here was exactly why.</p>
<p>The elf said nothing and as the silence stretched, so did the tension between them.</p>
<p>Finally, with the voices echoing their warnings over and over and over again, when the veil began to thin and the smell of ice filled the air, she shook her head. Slowly, deliberately, she turned to him and raised her hand to clasp him on the arm. The way she would any fond companion. He flinched but the quicksilver of his gaze blinked away, leaving nothing so much as astonishment in its wake.</p>
<p>“C’mon Solas. You’ve already told me all about the cities immortal elves build in the sky on air itself. That you saw in the fade.” She added after a moment, to let the implications sink in. “Let us say you’ve seen this Fen’harel in the fade as well. Tell me about him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The end.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is always a tension between what I-the-player know about the situation and what the player-controlled-character knows. For example they've read all codex entries. I did not ;DDD.<br/>This fic exists because in case of Adaar Inquisitor taking the Well and then the game confirming it still works as intended with her physiology it really stands to reason she should be able to figure out exactly what Solas' deal is and especially since you can do the Frostback Basin AFTER the Well but BEFORE endgame which I feel is just mechanically wrong if they cared at all about the timeline not falling apart.<br/>I am apprehensive of how exactly they'll fuck up DA4.<br/>Joy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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